It might have been Ibiza
But it could have been the coast of Spain
On a clapped-out continental radio
I thought I heard his name

But I was just another hippie then
With my copy of Rolling Stone
In a kickback full of hashish
That I was trying to smuggle home

There was years of independence
Put a meaning on the words "hard rain"
In a rundown beachfront arcade I heard
How the times have changed

I was thrown in jail in Tangiers
With a couple from Montreal
Who'd been working their way to London
To see the plug-in at the Albert Hall

The day that Bobby went electric
I was struggling through my teens
And when he plugged in up at Newport
I was caught up in a dream